Traps
by Incapability
Summary: Complete! Did Madame Giry really leave the scene after she left the Vicomte on the staircase? And what is Erik up to?
1. Default Chapter

„Where did he take her?" The young man's face was wrenched with fear as he fought his way through the crowd of screaming people. Fear for the girl Erik had taken with him.  
She needed to be careful now. If he went looking for her on his own, he might very well stumble across Erik's lair. She couldn't let that happen. But with her guidance …

"Come with me, Monsieur, I will take you to him!" Yes, she would take him to Erik's hiding place. The only question was: Would the Vicomte arrive in time? And would he arrive unharmed?  
So many questions, but no answers, she thought, as she fought to suppress an evil smile while she led him through the chaos behind the stage, urging him to hurry and giving strange warnings with a grave voice: "Remember, Monsieur! Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

The more distracted he would become by her instructions, the better.

When they were finally descending a long spiral staircase, she had become silent. It was necessary to pay rapt attention to how far they had already gone. The Vicomte was too absorbed in their dark, eerie surroundings to notice her silence. The aura of the place did not help to improve his worries about the girl.

In his eagerness to find her, he didn't notice his leader stopping dead in her tracks, and rushed past her. Only after several steps he turned around, puzzled. "What is the matter?"

She gave her face a fearful and hesitating expression and whispered: "This is as far as I dare go."

He nodded and said: "Thank you, Madame. Your help will not be forgotten."

'You bet it won't', she thought with a triumphant smile as she watched him descent further into the darkness.

A/N : Any similarities with other fics are not meant as an act of plagiarism and are purely coincidental or a result of inspiration.  
I do not own any of the characters, which are properties of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux. Sadly.


	2. Chapter 2

She started to make her way back up the stairs, all the while listening carefully. He was bound to reach the trapdoor some time soon.

Any moment now … unless he had decided to come back … which would ruin the plan she had come to think of. It would really be a pity.

There it was! The screaming of stone against stone, followed by a yell and a distant, splashing sound. "Enjoy your bath, Monsieur. It might take some time", she murmured as she climbed up the stairs, now hurrying as if she were followed by nameless shadows.  
The water basin would cool the young man's emotions and give her time to reach her destination.

Gasping, she finally reached the dressing room and rushed towards the mirror, using the hidden mechanics to open the secret passageway that led to Erik's lair.

Oh, the stairs led there too!  
But she preferred the short route that was devoid of any trapdoors, trick stairs and hidden rooms in which a man could rot for years until he was found.

Carefully avoiding the ropes that were tied all across the tunnel, she made her way through the darkness and felt a humiliating wave of relief go over her when she reached the lake and found the boat in its place.


	3. Chapter 3

She climbed into the boat, her skirts being an unexpected obstacle, and struggled to get it out onto the lake and into the required direction. Only her uncounted years of practised discipline made her able to completely ignore her eerie surroundings and to focus her mind onto what was most important at the time being: reaching Erik's lair before the Vicomte did.

For she did not even dare imagine what was to happen if she failed. The consequences were bound to be fatal; for one side or the other.

She did not know what she expected Erik to do after he had received her warnings. She did not even know whether she expected him to do anything at all.

But still she felt certain that it was of essential importance that she warned him. She was one of the few people in the world whom he trusted, and perhaps the only one he listened to when he needed advice, which was hardly ever the case.

It would even be better for the boy if Erik was prepared for his arrival, better than to stumble across the surprised rage of an Opera Ghost that had believed himself safe.

She started from her reverie when she noticed how far she had already crossed the lake. And really, she heard the distant, tempting voice of the siren. Well acquaintanced with Erik's love for playing with traps, she knew better than to let herself get distracted by the lovely sound. Instead she watched out for hidden currents and unseen rocks.

She couldn't help but sigh in relief when she heard the reassuring sound of sand crunching beneath the boat and didn't bother to hide her joy at having firm ground beneath her feet when she finally climbed out onto the shores.


	4. Chapter 4

He was playing his organ. She did not know whether it was a good or a bad sign, for she could not make out his melody's mood in the cave's reverberation.  
Carefully avoiding any noise that would make him aware of her presence, she approached him further until she got a clearer impression of his song.

It was a light, quiet melody, yet it had tone of irony, amusement even. He was obviously very pleased with himself. She decided that it was safe to approach him and walked closer until she stood directly behind him. She saw from his change in posture that he had noticed her, but he did not interrupt his playing, nor did he acknowledge her in any other way. She knew this all too well, him waiting for her to make the first move. Ever since she had brought him here, he had looked out for her guidance, sought for her advice. Ever. Until he had started to show a great amount of interest in a certain chorus girl. It was then that they had suddenly lost contact. She had tried to reach his lair several times, but the iron gates out on the lake had always been closed.Tonight they were open again. Another sign for his good mood …

She suddenly noticed how much she had lost herself in her thoughts and finally opened her mouth to speak to him.  
"How extraordinarily kind of you to finally leave your door open to me again." She could almost sense his smile. "_Mademoiselle la danseuse_, it has always been open to you." She feigned surprise: "Oh, really? Well, perhaps those iron bars out in the water blocked my view." "Perhaps." He eventually stopped playing and turned to her. "_Mademoiselle la danseuse_, I had hoped for your opinion of tonight's performance."

_Mademoiselle la danseuse_ … he had called her that ever since he had found out that she was dancing at the Paris Opera House. Neither her marriage nor her retiring from the stage had made him change his name for her.

"I must admit that it was quite a pleasant surprise. After what the girl had shown during rehearsals, I had expected far less." He seemed quite pleased with her comment. "As always, I could not say it any better myself. She proved quite useful an instrument."

She could not believe her ears. What was he talking about? And where the hell was the girl? Some of her astoundment must have shown on her face, for he began to chuckle.  
"_Mademoiselle la danseuse_, you were not really fooled by my little charade, were you?" She glared at him. If there was one thing she could not stand it was being laughed at. He became serious and continued to speak. "I see that some explanations would be adequate. You see, _Mademoiselle_, that I had to gain the respect of our dear new managers somehow. What would be better than a ghost that is madly in love, or in lust, with a chorus girl and is ready to kill to get her into the limelight?" Realisation dawned on her face. "You mean, it was all acting?" "From the beginning to the very dramatic ending." She almost laughed. He had fooled them all! "But what about the girl?" Now it was him who had to fight laughter. "The girl? A pretty face, a pretty voice. I wouldn't mind keeping her for a week or two, but after some time life would become pretty dull. You just can't have an intelligent conversation with her. She faints at the slightest hinge. She's in my chambers now. But really, you just can't talk to her. Few women have mastered the art of uniting beauty and _esprit _the way you have."  
"You mustn't flatter an old woman like that. One day I might actually believe you." He smirked. "_Mademoiselle la danseuse_ can always believe me. By the way, why did you honour my humble living space with your presence? I doubt you just dropped in to exchange pleasantries."  
She became serious. "The boy is coming here. He wants her back."

Again he chuckled. "Well, he can have her. I don't see the problem." She rolled her eyes. "You damn acting skills are the problem. He believes you re madly in love with her and expects a fight to the end. Do you really want to just give her back? Without a _grande finale_?" She smirked and shook her head. "What a waste of your work!"

"Who said that this end can't be dramatic? In fact, it is the perfect scenario for one of the most brutal questions in the world. I will ask her to either stay with me and save him or leave me and condemn him to death."

"That would indeed be highly amusing. Pray tell, is there a part for me in your little play as well, or may I simply watch?" He bowed to her. "_Mademoiselle la danseuse_, I would be honoured if you would take part in my unworthy performance. I suggest you take your position in the shadows and interfere at any time that seems fitting to you. I will leave it to you to choose whether you are my evil, sly accomplice or the shining guardian angel. That adds the element of surprise."

"I shall see what fits the situation better, but I think I will be your accomplice. Being evil is so much more tempting." And with these words she walked into the shadows to watch the scene that was to unfold itself in front of her.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Someone said that Erik would not be so cruel to Christine because he loves her. Well, the point of this story is that he does NOT love her.  
There must be hundreds of Erik-loves-Christine-everyone's-happy-stories out there. This is the one that is different, and if that bites your arse, I'm not forcing you to read it. But of course you are free to leave criticism and comments as you want. I just wanted to point out that the whole point of this story is that Erik used Christine and that he does not love her. Sorry for the rambling.

The boy was clearly taking his time. She had moved back into the darkness quite some time ago, and yet there was no sign of him.

Even though she seemed calm and collected on the outside, her mind was racing.

Too much had happened, too much had been unexpected. She did not remember the last time she had not been worried about him or someone else. First, when she had known nothing about what she had just found out, she had often felt sick with fear of what might happen if the stupid girl did not follow his instructions to the letter. Once again she marvelled at the amazing performance he had set up. Not even she, who had known him for almost all his life, had been able to see through his antics.  
Then, she had been worried about him. When she had learned of the plan to capture him during the play, she had tried to warn him, several times, but the iron gates leading to his lair had been closed.  
Knowing him in such danger and not being able to do anything about it had been more than she could stand. She hated to be forced into inaction. She could only feel safe when she had control over the situation.  
But he had managed to escape. The short wave of relief had come to a sudden halt when the boy had come to her. Again, she had feared for her phantom.  
The fact that the Opera House above them was burning to the grounds had not even yet reached her mind. She was too busy wondering why he had not involved her in his plans, why he had not told her.

She suddenly noticed that the girl had awoken and was now accusing him of being a soulless, heartless beast, just as everybody else had always done. He had been right. She was nothing special, nothing but a pretty face and a pretty voice. The boy could have her.

Now that she knew he was only playing his games, she could fully appreciate his performance. While the girl ranted, his face showed no emotion, except for a slightly amused smirk that was hardly visible if one did not know where to look. When she became silent and looked at him, his face turned into a mask of agony. Had she not known better, she could not have told that he was not deeply wounded by the girl's harsh words. True, he did suffer from the way people had treated him, or he would nt have been where he was, but he would never let mere words get to him like that.

He turned around, and she got a better view of his face. In his eyes she could see that he was fighting to keep himself from laughing. She got an idea of how amusing it must have been for him to 'gain the respect of the new managers'. She smirked. It had not been that amusing for everybody. Once again she remembered the terrible fear she had felt over the last few months.

Suddenly, he turned towards the sea and smiled triumphantly. "I believe, my dear, we have a guest!"

The boy had finally managed to find his way.


	6. Chapter 6

It was so predictable. The two of them reacted in the exact same way she had imagined they would.  
The boy was begging for his lover's life, the girl was nearly fainting with panic.  
He was obviously immensely enjoying himself, despite the absence of his mask, which would normally make him feel a bit uneasy, even when he was alone.

Suddenly, his amused smirk melted into a horrible expression of rage. "Raise your hand to the level of your eyes!" He jumped out at the boy and tied him to the gates with a piece of rope he had quickly pulled out of the water, his eyes on fire. He seemed to have only just realised that the boy had been staring at his face. Now he turned towards the girl. "It is up to you. Be with me, and he is free. Leave me, and he dies. There's no going back now."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance as the two of them tried to talk each other into leaving. A cliché if the ever had been one.

He was now putting a rope around the boy's neck and tightening it constantly, trying to force the girl to make a decision. When the girl broke into tears and finally promised to do anything, she decided to make her entrance.

"Really now. Have I taught you nothing?" She gave her voice an accusing tone while she left her hiding place and walked towards the sobbing heap on the ground. "Always control yourself. A ballerina will still smile when the blood is dripping out of her shoes. I'm very disappointed that you let yourself go like this."

When the girl had first noticed her, the shadow of hope had crept onto her face and left it again as soon as she had seen her face of steel.  
"How could you?", the girl gasped. "You knew it all along! How could you do this to me?"  
She laughed. "How I could do this? My dear, you're overestimating your own importance. This is not about you. Or him", she added with a scornful glance towards the boy. That seemed too much for him to take, for he cried out in disbelief. "I trusted you! You hear me, I trusted you! You have betrayed us!"

She smiled her airy smile. "Why did I betray you, Monsieur? I promised I would take you here, and here you are."

In the meantime, he had let go of the rope around the boy's neck and came towards her. His expression was playful. "Now that we got this clear, what do you think we should do with them, _Mademoiselle la danseuse_?"

She feigned thoughtfulness. "I really can't decide. We could of course tell them all about our evil, underhanded plan and then get rid of them. But that would be such a cliché. We could also tell them all about our evil, underhanded plan, blindfold them and let them find their way back upstairs." While she spoke, her smile turned into a scornful smirk. This was turning out to be even more amusing than she had expected, for the two were now positively shaking with fear at the thought of being sent into the endless darkness of the Opera cellars.

"So … where to begin? You see, living down here may be very quiet and undisturbed. But one has to _live _somehow. And that requires certain financial resources. Those can very conveniently be provided by the Opera management. But how make them realise they should really fulfil the payments?" He was grinning at them with the air of a tiger eyeing a goat. "And this is where the two of you come into play. The young patron, giving a helping hand to raise the money. The skilled singer, an instrument to prove that the Ghost is to be taken seriously. Nothing less, but also nothing more.  
Once again we see that money rules the world", he added with a nasty smirk.

The two of them looked thunderstruck. "You mean, you used me?", the girl whispered.  
Instead of an answer he went to a dark corner of his lair, rummaged for a while and returned with two pieces of rope and two blindfolds.  
His face was now serious, in his eyes there was a strange gleam.

He sought her gaze for some moments and stared at her intensely. When she did not react, she thought she noticed a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but when she looked again, it was gone. He was now approaching the quivering couple with determination.

"The situation is rapidly loosing its excitement, so I think we should get this over with.  
Would you care to assist me, _Mademoiselle la danseuse_?", he called over his shoulder.

She walked towards them, her mind still on the strange look he had given her.  
While he carefully tied their hands, she blindfolded the shivering, scared couple.

When they were done, she stepped back. He smirked, obviously greatly enjoying himself. "I will accompany them on some part of their way. I would be honoured if you would wait for my return. Please make yourself at home."

He turned and led the two of them towards the boat. When they had disappeared from sight, she turned and took a seat next to the organ, his favourite place.

While waiting, she began to think again. Why had he not told her about his plans? Maybe he didn't trust her any more. But then, why had he told her so willingly tonight? It just didn't make sense. And why had he looked at her all the time with this laugh in his eyes that seemed to have nothing to do with their little game?  
Finally deciding that she didn't want to break her head over these question, she resolved to simply ask him.

Having made this decision, she felt a great deal better and leaned back in her seat to wait for his return.

It took him about twenty minutes to come back. When he reached the shores. He jumped out of the boat with agility and came to her like a boy expecting praise from his mother. "You should have seen them, it was hila-", but when he noticed her stony face, the smile dripped from his face like water. "Is something the matter, _Mademoiselle la danseuse_?"  
"I've been wondering about that ever since I came here. Would you perhaps care to tell me why you decided not to inform me about your little game?"  
The amusement that had left his eyes only moments ago slowly crept back into his face. He began to chuckle. She couldn't believe it. What was there to laugh about?  
"_Mademoiselle_, do you remember our favourite childhood game?" She couldn't hide her puzzlement any longer.  
"Why of course. We would always set traps for each other and see whether the other one would discover them, but I don't see what –"  
All at once, realisation hit her right into the face.  
She felt the strong urge to yell at him for fooling her, but managed to get a grip on herself. She took several deep breaths and felt finally able to speak without wanting to rip his head off, though the smile she wore was kind of forced.  
"So, you thought it would be a nice laugh to bring chaos upon the Opera only to find out whether I would see through it?"  
He gave her a slightly uneasy look. "Well … that was the general idea."  
His discomfort appeased her, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Her eyes narrowed. "And it didn't occur to you that you might be overdoing it a bit?" Her voice must have given her away, for he relaxed visibly and gave her a boyish smile. "I was bored." She felt her anger melt and almost against her will she shook her head and muttered "Men!".  
"What did you say, _Mademoiselle_?"  
She turned towards the lake. "Oh, I was just wondering whether they will be found. What do you think?"

He came to her side. "Perhaps they will." He looked at her and smiled. "But one never knows."

A/N: So that was that. I hope some of you enjoyed it and that the end wasn't too lame.

Thanks to all those who reviewed, and especially to my bestest friend in the world, ForgottenIceTea, who helped me finish this. I love ya, honey!


End file.
